


daylight

by blazeofglory



Series: names in history [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Adultery, Alternate Universe - Historical, American Civil War, Anal Sex, Angst, Established Relationship, Love Letters, M/M, Secret Relationship, gratuitous use of terms of endearment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-03 07:36:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15814386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blazeofglory/pseuds/blazeofglory
Summary: Two men in love is dangerous enough; a Northern man and a Southern man in love in Civil War era America is just tempting fate.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> To Sina-- thank you for everything, I can't get anything done without your love and support!! 
> 
> To everyone else-- chapter one is the actual story/porn and chapter two will be the love letters! Chapter two is already half-written, so hopefully it'll be up soon.

_There are many names in history_

_but none of them are ours._

\--Richard Siken

* * *

 

“Now, I _know_ I said you were welcome back anytime, but I didn’t expect you back quite so soon.”

Jim turns around at the sound of that slow Southern drawl, just barely biting back a grin.

“I couldn’t stay away,” Jim says, smiling politely, yet his eyes betray his excitement and he’s sure that anyone that looks hard enough can tell. Thankfully, Jocelyn is the only one around, and she seems too fixed on her needlepoint to pay either of them any mind. “In truth, I believe I left my favorite hat in your office. I turned around at once when I realized I’d lost it.”

Bones raises a brow, amusement writ large across his features, and gestures up the stairs behind him.

“Let’s take a look, then,” Bones suggests, a smile playing at the edges of his lips.

Jim nods politely at Jocelyn, who doesn’t bother to look up, then heads up the stairs. Ever the Southern gentleman, Bones places a hand on the small of Jim’s back as he follows, but the touch is there and gone before Jim can even really appreciate it. Still, it’s risky enough for Bones to touch him at all when they’re not alone in a locked room, and that ghost of a touch warms Jim more than the Georgian sun ever could.  

Once the heavy oak door of Bones’ office is closed behind them, Jim finally lets himself turn to him with a wide grin.

“You left with your hat on your head,” Bones points out, stepping in close, his hands on Jim’s waist.

“I missed my train,” Jim admits, cupping Bones’ face and drawing him into a soft kiss. When they part, they’re both smiling. Jim’s only been gone just over two hours, but that was plenty of time to already start missing Bones. “I thought, I’ll just stay here a bit longer and take the evening train home instead.”

“Jocelyn will be suspicious if we stay up here alone too long,” Bones whispers as he takes a step back, smoothing out the wrinkles in Jim’s suit from his hands. “After you left this mornin’, she asked me what you were doin’ here after you visited just last month.”

“She doesn’t have a clue what we’re doing up here,” Jim insists, to which Bones rolls his eyes. Jim huffs dramatically, taking a seat on the ostentatious leather couch, and fixes Bones with a glare. “She’s never liked me, that’s all. I know she calls me a damn Yankee the second I’m out of earshot.”

With a sigh, Bones joins Jim on the couch, leaving a respectable distance between them. Yet, when Jim reaches his hand out, Bones reaches out too, and their fingers entwine. Jim glances up at the office window, the drapes pulled to let in the early afternoon sunlight, and tries to push down his paranoia-- no one should be able to see much of anything if they bother to look in, since they’re on the second floor and this room faces into the woods. Still, Jim considers getting up to pull the drapes shut to ensure their privacy, and he resents the paranoia that’s been settled deep inside him since the second he kissed Bones that very first time.

“It’s been a long time since West Point,” Bones says softly, staring down at their hands, brow furrowed. Jim jolts out of his wandering worrisome thoughts and follows Bones’ gaze. He squeezes Bones’ hand gently in what he hopes is reassurance. “I’m just worried that other folks are gonna start gettin’ suspicious too.”

“There’s not much we can do about that, though, is there?” 

Bones sighs again, scooting closer until they’re leaning against each other. Jim rests his head on his lover’s shoulder and wishes, just for a moment, that they were still back at West Point. The training had been some kind of hell, but they’d shared a room the whole time, where they got to be together every night without anyone asking any questions about it… _Now_ , they live so damn far apart, Jim hardly sees Bones more than once every other month or so, and even _that_ is too often to avoid gossip from the local bitties.

Last Jim heard, the rumor is that he’s been making these visits to the McCoy home because he’s sweet on Jocelyn, but that rumor won’t last with her disdain so clear for everyone to see. Every time Jim travels South, he’s inviting more suspicious inquiries into their lives, but what else is there to do? Bones can’t leave the hospital to visit Jim up North; they need him here too desperately. Soon, Jim thinks with a pang, he will be so busy that he may not be able to see Bones for long stretches of time. The prospect of not seeing Bones at all for longer than a month makes Jim feel nauseous just thinking about it.

“Pike will be expecting you back tomorrow, darlin’,” Bones says after a moment, sounding tired beyond his years. “I wish you could stay another night, but…”

Jim closes his eyes, hiding his face in Bones’ shoulder and trying in vain to block out the thought of leaving this room.

“I’ll head out in a few hours,” Jim replies, shifting up a little to press an innocent kiss to Bones’ neck.

Bones make a soft sound, pulling back from Jim, leaving just their hands still touching. In a gentle voice, he says, “We shouldn’t be riskin’ this with Jocelyn home.”

“I don’t know how long it’ll be until I’m back,” Jim admits quietly. “Things are going to change soon, Bones, we both know it.”

“You mean the _war_?” Bones rolls his eyes. “All these damn fools don’t know what they’re doin’. It’s not gonna come to a war.”

Jim runs a tired hand over his face, then shrugs. “Pike told me he thinks it’s coming sooner rather than later.”

“Pike tells you these things?” Bones asks, an edge of suspicion in his voice that makes Jim clench his jaw, looking away. 

Jim hesitates, then admits, “I’m being promoted to Captain soon. When the war comes, I’m gonna be Pike’s right hand man.” 

Bones stands up abruptly, releasing Jim’s hand and pacing the length of the office with agitated steps.

“Damn it, Jim,” Bones hisses in a voice just above a whisper, lest Jocelyn hear them. “You’re gonna be a _Captain_ in the Union army? Do you have any idea how god damn dangerous that’ll be if it does actually come to war?”

“I don’t exactly have a choice,” Jim points out, standing now too. “But it’s the right thing to do anyway, no matter the danger.”

“But if it comes to war, you won’t be able to visit me anymore,” Bones says quietly. He’s stopped pacing, his back turned to Jim as he stares out the back window. “Even if you could take the time, no way in hell would it be safe for you to come South. Is that what you meant by change?”

Jim comes up behind Bones, wrapping his arms around his waist. Thankfully, Bones doesn’t pull away, and Jim presses his face into his shoulder once more, slowly letting out a deep breath. 

“Yes,” Jim answers quietly. “But it’s… there’s more.”

Bones groans dramatically. “ _More_? What, is your mama finally makin’ you get married?”

Jim is silent and he knows that’s answer enough.

“Shit,” Bones whispers, and now his hands come up to lay over Jim’s, holding tight, as if to keep Jim from letting go again. “I guess you put it off as long as you could, huh?”

“I didn’t know how to tell you earlier,” Jim says, and his next words come out bitter, edging on angry. “She even picked out the perfect woman for me.” 

“I’m not sure I wanna know who it is just yet,” Bones replies, still too quiet. “And I know that’s hypocritical, but I just--”

“I know,” Jim interrupts gently. 

It’s quiet between them again, for several long minutes, before Bones turns in Jim’s arms with a soft sigh.

“This isn’t the end,” Bones declares, pushing Jim’s hair off his forehead with a gentle hand. His eyes are soft and sad, his heart on his sleeve just as it’s always been. Though his face is soft, his voice is quiet and tense, brokering no argument. “You and I, we ain’t over, Jim. _Fuck_ my wife and fuck your betrothed and fuck the fucking war. We ain’t over.” 

Jim nods, a blue fire burning in his eyes, and kisses Bones hard. When they part, he rests their foreheads together, and they breathe as one.

“If there’s a war, it won’t last forever,” Jim whispers. “We may not be able to see each other for a while, but we can still write.”

Bones sighs and says, “There’s no use tryin’ to turn back time, but I still wish we could go back to West Point.”

Jim kisses the sad smile off Bones’ face, holding him close for as long as he can. This may be the last time they see each other for months, maybe even _years_ to come, and Jim has no idea how either of them will handle it. He fists his hands in Bones’ suit jacket, loathe to ever let go, even as the minutes tick down until he has to leave to catch a train home. Maybe it’s a miracle that they could even keep this going for so long, despite the time and distance and gossip all conspiring to keep them apart. Maybe it would be easier, less cruel for them both to end this now and spare themselves future heartbreak, and _yet…_ Jim has always been a selfish man. He refuses to give this up, not when Bones is clinging to him just as tightly.

“I wish we could run away together,” Jim murmurs. “We could escape to the sea, live on a boat… I’d learn to fish for you.”

“Well, that’s certainly romantic,” Bones teases softly. “I can’t hardly imagine you fishin’.”

“The things we do for love,” Jim says, and he means for it to come out light-hearted, but it doesn’t. It really, really doesn’t.

“Jim…”

“I know.” 

“When’s the last train out?” Bones asks, a whisper into Jim’s ear.

“Three hours from now,” Jim answers, arching his neck in an invitation that Bones takes, his lips sinful and hot on Jim’s neck. He threads his fingers through Bones’ hair, chuckling. “What happened to not doing this with Jocelyn in the house?”

“If this is the last time I get to see you for a while…” Bones nips at Jim’s jaw, soothing the spot with a kiss. “Well, then I plan to make it count, sugar.”

Jim grins, sudden and bright, and resolves to just enjoy this moment with Bones; he tries to push away all thoughts of how this may just be the last time he ever gets to kiss his lover. After all, a lot can change in the course of a war-- Jim doesn’t even know if he’ll live to see the end of it, and what if Bones finds someone new in Jim’s absence? Except-- _no_ , Bones would never. The only thing that can separate them is death, and Jim certainly doesn’t plan on dying today, so he smiles and kisses Bones with teeth and tongue, committing every touch to memory.

They part after a few moments, lips red and already breathless, and Jim glances out the window, flushing immediately. Bones’ eyes had been trained on Jim’s mouth, but now he follows Jim’s gaze and a dark look comes over his face. He steps away, drawing the drapes, shutting away the afternoon sunlight and leaving the room in shadow. Their love may burn bright, but it’s never been suited for daylight, and they learned that long ago.

“Lock the door, Jimmy,” Bones says in a soft voice, and Jim immediately does as he’s told. The thud of the bolt is overwhelmingly loud in the quiet room; Jim wonders if Jocelyn heard it too. God, he hopes she’s still downstairs.

Bones joins Jim again, pressing all along his back, his hands possessive and sure on Jim’s hips. He kisses Jim’s neck once more, sucking a dark hickey just low enough to be covered by Jim’s collar, and Jim bites back a wanton moan. Bones whispers, “I wanna do this every time I see you, you know that? My wife and God himself could be watchin’, but I still want you with every fiber in my being. You’re too damn pretty for this world and I ain’t never been good at resistin’ pretty things.” 

“Sweet talker,” Jim accuses with a breathless chuckle, breath hitching as Bones’ wandering hand reaches his already hard cock, stroking him torturously slow through his pants. “Don’t tease me, Bones.” 

“You’re _always_ teasin’ me, but I’m not allowed to return the favor?” Bones laughs, using his grip on Jim’s hip to turn Jim in his arms and kiss him soundly again. His hands shift to Jim’s ass, groping without shame, and Jim is gratified to feel Bones hard against him, just as fucking into this as Jim is. Jim bites at Bones’ bottom lip as they grind together, eliciting a too-loud moan from Bones that he immediately tries to stifle.

When they were younger, Jim had always found the secrecy kind of hot-- trying not to get caught, risking it anyway, always so desperate for each other despite the very real and present peril-- but he finds nothing desirable in secrets any longer. This is just dangerous, plain and simple; if they get caught, both of their lives will be irrevocably ruined. There would be no going back. Each moan is a risk. 

“Sorry,” Bones whispers, so quiet that Jim can hardly hear him. “Maybe we shouldn’t--”

“No,” Jim interrupts, already fumbling with the fastenings of Bones’ pants, fingers clumsy as he rushes. “I-- I need this, I need to feel it.”

“I’m not sure how quietly I can fuck you,” Bones points out, though he doesn’t pull away from Jim’s touch, and he bites his own lip when Jim gets his hand in Bones’ pants, stroking his cock just the way Bones likes. He kisses Jim, pouring all his frustrations and desires into it, holding Jim close.

“I told you, you’re real hard to resist,” Bones mumbles against Jim’s lips, and Jim smiles into the kiss.

“We don’t have a lot of time,” Jim can’t help but say, thumbing the head of Bones’ cock. He shifts in Bones’ grip, making to sink to his knees, but Bones holds Jim’s elbow steady, keeping him upright, and Jim pouts.

“Not this time,” Bones says, and Jim loves the promise of a next time. Bones pulls away, stepping back over to his desk and dragging Jim along with him. He palms Jim’s ass again, leaning in to whisper hotly in his ear, “If you need me to fuck you, if you need to _feel_ it, then I’m gonna give it to you.”

Jim shivers involuntarily, kissing Bones hard while he fumbles in his own pocket for a vial of oil. He presses it into Bones’ hand without breaking the kiss, and he can feel Bones’ lips curl up into a smile. Jim licks into Bones’ mouth while they get both of their pants shoved down to their knees, every movement rushed even though they’d love the luxury of being able to take their time with each other. Someday, perhaps, but not today; not in this house. 

When they part, Bones guides Jim by the hips, turning him around and bending him over the desk. Jim is quick to push papers and books aside, careful not to let them crash to the ground. He’s achingly hard, desperate for Bones to fuck him, but he keeps his mouth firmly shut and wills himself not to beg for it. He’ll be quiet; he’ll be _good._

“You’re so beautiful, darlin’,” Bones whispers in a soft voice, just as his slick fingers caress Jim’s hole. “I’m gonna take care of you, don’t you worry.”

Flushed bright red and voice just _barely_ above a whisper, Jim can’t help but say, “ _Please._ ” 

Bones, never one to deny Jim what he wants, finally slides a finger inside him, and it’s not long before he’s fucking Jim with three fingers, fast and wet and messy. All Jim can do is breathe and take it, biting his own lip hard enough to draw blood to keep himself from moaning and begging with reckless abandon. His fingers grasp at the edges of the desk, carving his fingernail crescents into the wood forever, and there’s some possessive, vindictive part of him that feels smug about leaving his mark in this room forever. Bones won’t be able to forget him when he sees this reminder every fucking day, that’s for damn sure.

“Ready, Jimmy?”

Instead of speaking, Jim just nods and arches his back in answer. Always so careful, Bones slips his fingers out, and a few seconds later, Jim makes a soft, breathy sound as he feels Bones’ cock push inside him, filling him in the way that Jim’s been missing.

“Jesus, you feel like heaven,” Bones murmurs under his breath, hands firm on Jim’s hips as he slowly eases inside. Fuck, Jim hopes there’ll be finger-shaped bruises on his hips by the time they’re done. They won’t last as long as Jim’s scratches in the wood, but they’ll be a nice reminder for a few days, anyway-- until they fade away, and all Jim has to remind himself of Bones is a memory and a stack of faded letters. Jim takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, and he abruptly realizes that he’s crying.

Jim readjusts his weight, freeing one of his hands to clasp over his own mouth in an attempt to stifle the sobs that desperately try to escape. He feels Bones shift inside him, a slow slide out, and Jim is relieved that Bones hasn’t noticed his irrational tears, but when Bones slides back in, Jim’s traitorous body lets out a small sound muffled into his hand, and Bones stops moving altogether.

“Did I hurt you?” Bones asks in a soft voice, all affection and concern and _love_. It’s too much; Jim’s shoulders shake with suppressed sobs, and he feels like a damn fool for each tear that falls. Bones starts to pull out, but Jim reaches back for him, grasping his forearm hard to keep him from moving away.

“It doesn’t hurt,” Jim whispers, then adds mentally, _Well, not physically._ “Please, just-- just keep going.”

“It’s okay, sugar,” Bones whispers. His strong fingers pry Jim’s hand off his arm, and Bones pulls out, gently rearranging Jim before he even has time to complain. Before he knows it, Jim is on his back on the desk, staring up at Bones as he self-consciously rubs his eyes. He doesn’t know what he expected to see in Bones’ eyes-- pity, maybe? But all he sees in those soft brown depths is love.

Bones wipes away the last of Jim’s tears with a gentle touch. 

“This ain’t gonna be the last time,” Bones whispers, his quiet voice fierce and his eyes locked on Jim’s. “Don’t you cry, alright? We’re gonna be alright.”

Jim wants to protest, wants to point out that he may not make it back to Bones alive, but there are already unshed tears shining in his lover’s eyes and he does not intend to let them fall. He reaches out, pulling Bones down, and kisses him hard, until all they can think about is each other and all they can focus on is this moment right now. Soon enough, Jim is panting for it again, tears and goodbyes forgotten, rutting up against Bones, and Bones is carefully pushing back inside. They kiss and they breathe and Jim’s moans are muffled by Bones’ mouth when he comes.

Bones comes quickly after, spilling deep inside Jim, and _yes_ , Jim will never get tired of that feeling.

After, they are reluctant to part. The room has grown dark since Jim first entered it-- he supposes the sun has gone down now, leaving no light left to filter in through the curtains. He should be getting up, he should be pulling up his pants, he should be seeking out a clock, he should be on his way to catch a train up North. He still has his boots on; he can be up and out the front door in under five minutes. 

Yet, Jim does not move.

“I don’t want to go,” Jim whispers, arms wrapped around Bones, holding him close.

“We’ve been alone a while, I’m sure Jocelyn is suspicious,” Bones murmurs, pulling out and righting himself. He reaches for Jim’s hands, helping him sit up, and his hands are gentle in Jim’s hair, soothing the mess he’s made of it. Bones hesitates, then adds, “I don’t want you to go either.”

They kiss again, half-dressed in a room shrouded in darkness, a sigh the only sound to be heard.

Eventually, they part and they adjust their clothes, and the silence is so heavy it could crush them whole.

“I’ll write to you,” Jim finally says, clasping Bones’ hand in his one last time. There’s something tender and tragic in Bones’ eyes that Jim is sure is echoed in his own. He can’t look away. A thought occurs to him suddenly and he frowns. “If my mother insists on rushing my marriage, it may occur before the war breaks out…”

Bones laughs softly. “Are you asking me to be your best man, Jim?”

“I’ve always wanted you by my side at the altar,” Jim answers, a smile on the edge of his lips.

Bones kisses him and Jim takes that as agreement.

When they finally leave the room and make their way back downstairs, Jocelyn and the servants are nowhere to be found, and thus Bones dares to kiss Jim goodbye.

“I love you,” Bones whispers against Jim’s lips.

With his bag in his hand and his heart on his sleeve, Jim whispers back, “I love you too.”


	2. Chapter 2

_Dear Bones,_

 

I can’t believe it’s only been six months since I last saw you; it already feels like a fucking life time ago. I need this war to wrap up real quick so I can venture down South again without a gun and an army at my back. Everyday, I wish I could just get on my horse and ride to you. I could come around back, through the woods, maybe climb up that big oak tree and come right up to your office window. You’d be sitting at your desk writing in your medical journal, but you’d turn around when I knocked on the window, and you’d smile at me and let me in. Then you’d kiss me like it was the first time all over again, wouldn’t you? I think about this every single day, baby. I’d never be a deserter, you know that, but God I wish I could sometimes.

I think this war is going to last a lot longer than we originally thought and that terrifies me more than I want to admit. I’ve never seen this kind of violence before. I thought I was ready for war, but I don’t think anyone can truly be ready for this. How could we be? So many people are dying-- my peers, my friends, young guys who never should’ve been here. I don’t know if you’ve heard the news yet, do you remember Gary Mitchell from West Point? He died last week. He’s younger than us and he’s dead.

I think this is hell, Bones. I know I’ve always been one for the hyperbolic, but really, this is just-- it’s absolute misery. I wish this war would end, I wish I could come home to you. Yet, even when it ends, it’s not as simple as me running into your arms, is it? I don’t think either of our wives would like that too much. I would gladly put up with their disdain if it means seeing you again, though. I’d endure just about anything to see you again; I’d endure a thousand wars. 

I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to write you back. I’ll admit, I haven’t known what to say since the wedding. I wish you could have been there; you would have made it bearable. I want to tell you that I’m doing well, but… in truth, I am miserable and I miss you and I love you. I wish I could tell you everything that is going on, but I’m risking enough with what I’ve already written. God, if anyone finds this letter, they’ll kill us both for it. I shouldn’t even be risking this, but you need to know, okay? You deserve to know how I long for you and how ardently I love you. Burn this once you’ve read it, never let Jocelyn set eyes on it. My words are for your eyes only.

If I make it through hell, we’ll be together again someday, no matter the obstacles we’ll have to jump through. We’ll make it work. Maybe we’ll finally run away together and go live on a fishing boat in the Caribbean.

I told myself I wouldn’t cry while writing this letter, but. Here I am. Jesus, baby, everything is a mess and I just wish I could see your face. I hope I live long enough to kiss you once more-- that’s all I think about when I close my eyes.

Write back soon. I’ll be eagerly waiting.

 

_Yours,_

_JTK_

 

* * *

 

_J. —_

 

You’re right, it is dangerous to write the things that you wrote. Damn it, man, are you asking for trouble? What if Jocelyn had come upon the letter before I did? What if the courier had gotten too curious? Don’t be a fool, darling, please. You’re going to make it through this God damn war, don’t talk like you won’t. Don’t be reckless.

I don’t know how to write you a love letter. That’s what you deserve, it’s what I want to give you, but I don’t have the words like you do. But, shit, I guess I'll try anyway. Maybe my words can keep you warm on the nights that I can’t.

Whenever I sit in my study, I think of you. I know it’s cheesy, but it’s true. I think of the way you smiled and your eyes lit up in the afternoon sunlight. I think of holding your hand and your soft hair tickling my neck when you leaned on my shoulder. I think of kissing you. I think of the things we did on this very desk that I am writing on at this moment. If I were anyone else, I'm sure I'd be blushing right now, wouldn't I?

I'm not fool enough to write in a letter exactly what I do when I think of you, but I'm sure you know, sugar. The thought of you fills me with an indescribable feeling. I can't quite control myself, you know. You’re the only person in this world that makes me feel like this.

I love you too, you know that. And, surely, you must know that I miss you. If you don’t know that, then you’re not as smart as I give you credit for. I miss you more than I can handle, truly. Sometimes I think I may go mad with it. I feel as though I am wilting without you.

...Perhaps you are not the only one with a penchant for the hyperbolic. 

What you said about war being hell, I know you must be going through some awful shit. You're tough, though, and you're going to make it through. You have to, you hear me? I can't live without you. This distance is torture enough; I don't want to live in a world without you. I can’t do it. I won’t. Stay strong. Stay safe. Please, I beg you, stay safe.

It's alright if you need to cry. I wish I could hold you. Don't burn this letter, alright? Keep it on you. Read my words again and again, as many times as it takes for you to feel even a little bit better. I hope that works-- it's all I can do.

I love you, Jim. More than anything. Write me as soon as you can.

 

_With Love, Always,_

_L._

**Author's Note:**

> I'm tentatively making this a series... there are a few extra scenes that I'd like to write, but no promises! 
> 
> Let me know if y'all are interested in more!


End file.
